


Popcorn Kernels

by TriplePirouette



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tumblr Ask Box Fic, a little angsty, but happy overall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriplePirouette/pseuds/TriplePirouette
Summary: Steve and Peggy’s first Christmas together, post Endgame.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Popcorn Kernels

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2021. You’ve got this. Make new memories everyday. 
> 
> Prompted by an Anon and Tumblr's captainjimothycarter: Steve and Peggy's first Christmas post-Endgame.

He stands in front of the willowy pine, looking it over, the light dying in the large picture window beyond him, the boxes of ornaments at his feet.

“Steve? Are you alright?” Peggy asks quietly from behind him.

He turns, coughing to clear his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, yeah, I was just…”

Peggy slowly moves next to him, facing the tree as she folds her arms in front of her chest. She takes a deep breath. “Thinking again?”

He smiles, sheepishly. “Always.”

She bites her lip, knowing she shouldn’t ask. “Did you… do you…”

“No,” he stops her emphatically. Sometimes she’s asks “ _do you miss it?”_ and he hems and haws, but sometimes she asks _“do you want to go back?”_ and he will never, never let her wonder about that one.

Tonight, it doesn’t matter what question is on her lips, his answer is still the same.

It’s delicate, the life they’re slowly building together, and they’re both still tiptoeing around some of the biggest questions.

The romantic in him, the determined, single-minded man in him, wants to take that red and white suit and the vial of Pym Particles and burn them in front of her. He wants to demonstrate how much he wants to stay, to be here, to be with her. To put the question to rest once and for all.

The dark truth is that Pym won’t develop his particles for years to come, and should things go south in any way, should time not behave like he hopes it will, should this timeline start to degrade around him in his deepest fear, there’s no lifeline without those particles.

Even Peggy had insisted they stay, at least until Hank himself invents them.

Steve reaches out and pulls her to his side, kissing her forehead and holding her close. “I was thinking about Christmas Trees.”

“Trees?” She asks, wrapping her arms around him.

His eyes are unfocused, far away. “When I was a kid we didn’t always have money for a tree, but when we did, my Ma used to have me string up popcorn and make little snowflake garlands and when it was done it was just…”

“Beautiful?” Peggy supplies, trying to image a young, skinny Steve trimming a tree. The image warms her.

“Sad.” He sighs heavily. “It was the one time of year that I got selfish. That I wished we had money for ornaments and presents and a big dinner. I mean, I loved those hours, stringing up the popcorn and singing and creating things, but… the tree always seemed to be this symbol of another year that we’d barely survived, if we had a tree at all.”

“You were a kid,” Peggy whispers, “Of course you wanted more.”

“Bucky, he didn’t have a ton more than us, but his tree always had ornaments and tinsel and I was just so…” He clears his throat and stops. “So anyway, then when I was…” He rolls his hand and Peggy nods against him. They try not to say words like _future_ and _time travel_ out loud. “The tower, it had these trees. They paid people to decorate for the holidays and each floor had these trees that were just… beautiful.”

Peggy could see the instant his mind leaves her to wander through his past. After a quiet moment she prompts him, “Tell me about them.”

“Every floor had a color,” he starts, hand reaching out like he can touch them. “All green trees, fake, but they looked so real. And each floor’s trees were all decorated in the most beautiful ornaments of all the same color. The lounge on the 50th floor had a red tree. And there was a little silver tree on the 5th floor. And there was this huge tree in the lobby just covered in gold ornaments and ribbons and…” he takes a deep breath and sighs happily. “I would just stare at them for so long.”

Peggy kicks at the box at her feet. The real tree is already losing pine needles, and the mish mash of old family ornaments and cheap plastic baubles she picked up at a garage sale last summer because her tree always seemed so empty was nowhere near the grandeur he was describing. “We can go to the store in the morning, buy some new—”

He shakes his head, pushing her in front of him so he can wrap his arms around her and leaning his chin on her shoulder as they both look at the tree. “No, no, Peggy. That’s…” He takes another slow, deep breath. “It made me sad.”

“Sad?” She asks, letting her hand move to his cheek.

“They were beautiful but they were… soulless.” His brow furrows, not sure that’s the right word. “They didn’t…belong to anyone. All those beautiful ornaments were picked for their color. They didn’t mean anything. Not like the ones on Bucky’s tree that he and his sisters made and that their Ma picked out each year to commemorate something from along the way. The tinsel and garland mated, but it didn’t have hours and hours of songs and love like the popcorn I strung.” He kisses her gently on the cheek. “I was looking at this tree... _our_ tree… and I just started thinking about putting up all these beautiful things you have that mean something to you, that have history,” he pauses, speaking quieter, “and how I wished I had something to add.”

Peggy turns in his arms, taking his face gently in her hands, eyes full of sorrow. “Oh, my darling.”

Steve turns his head, kissing her palm as he takes it in both of his hands. “It’s not sad, not like that. Because I started thinking about all the ornaments we’d add together. That maybe tomorrow we’d go out and get one of those tacky ‘First Christmas Together’ ornaments down at the department store.” 

Peggy smiles, squeezing his hand. “I’d like nothing more.” She shrugged, swinging their hands between them. “Meanwhile, I think you can still contribute, aside from cutting it down and hauling it in and setting it up…” Her smile grew as she listed what he’d done so far as she’d attempted to help but had been repeatedly batted to the side by him.

Steve laughs, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” she turns, walking backward and letting go of his hand as she heads to the kitchen. “That garland was just a filler I picked up at a department store a while ago, it’s been falling apart for years. Grab the sewing kit from the upstairs closet. I’ll get the popcorn going.”

Peggy disappeared before he could reply, but he didn’t need to.

He was going to build a life, and a Christmas Tree, with Peggy, filled with memories, ornaments, and popcorn kernels.


End file.
